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“Combining wry, cutting lyrics and whimsical arrangements, the Canadian art-rockers’ latest is a tilt-a-whirl of a breakup album.” – Bandcamp

“…the album doesn’t so much take you on a ride as it does roll with you down a hill, laughing and shouting.” – Post-Trash

“absolutely exudes chemistry” – PureGrainAudio

Reeling from the end of his latest relationship, a distressed painter seeks solace in alcohol and his craft. Bored of typical canvas, he paints rooms, other artists' paintings, buildings, and highway lines until he ultimately decides to fix nature's colours - most of which now seem flawed to his obsessed eye.

This is the tale spun by weirdo avant-rock trio Motherhood on their newest LP, Dear Bongo. A meditation on the strident need for perfection in an imperfect world, the narrative weaves and waves, bounces and bops, and careens and crashes amidst the group's signature blend of self-made circus punk. Ranging from the playful Mekons-meets-Deerhoof opener "Bird Chirp" to the heavy-stock Cramps nod "Constanza," right through to the frenetic sleeve-hearted poetics of "Hallways," Dear Bongo is a nine-song LP of razor-sharp double-vision that skirts the edgy edges and heads straight for Spiritville.

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Surely there'll be mercy
Surely there'll be mercy
But firstly like a bird perched in a birch tree they will chirp me

I'm a country bumpkin slumping drunk and bumping into something
Like a little kid or something, guess I gotta live for something
I used to live for nothing
Kicking up a fit for nothing
I used to take what I could get which isn't shit for nothing

Surely there'll be mercy
Surely there'll be mercy
But firstly like birds perched in a birch tree they will chirp me

I'll be fine
I'll be fine by and by
I'll be fine by and by let the circle divide
Get the purple mixing blue and red, you know what I mean?
Means I mean for the ends and then pretend to be sweet

Track Name: Way Down

Alright then
I'll admit time to time it was frightening
Tip-toed a fine line to spite them
A wink of my eye and a sly grin
When they pipe in

Well aw shucks
Was I scraping or painting the walls up?
Was I making just bits or it all up?
These nitwits can witness it awestruck
But it's small stuff

Ok now
I hate to throw weight 'round the playground
But fake kind and kind make the same sound
Saying, 'good grief, great gracious I'm grave-bound'
On the way down

You can find me painting lines on down the interstate
Yellow as the sunshine, white as a winter's day
Quiet as a candle-lit roadside dinner date
Hubcap dinner plate, never seen a thinner steak

Mean Mr. Musta Heard About Me, puddin', need some proof?
Kicking up a fuss like it's dust just beneath my boot
Hit ya with a rusty piece of muffler in your two front tooths
Ou-waka do-waka I'ma gonna give it to you

I often get mixed up
Sit shiva in witch pots
But which ones are wisdom
And which thoughts are witch thoughts?

Track Name: Nuns

The wood fire sucks in the smoke that I clutch in my shaking right hand
Meanwhile there's dust in the broom pan
Denial sure is more than just a long river in Sudan

I'm feeling uneasy like six in the evening I put on my shoes
Meantime the city bus blew by
Seems like I'm pretty much kidding myself and not you guys

Surely
There'll be mercy
But firstly
Like birds perched in birch trees they will chirp me

My eyelids and lips start to twitch in the kitchen I'm fixing to croak
Elsewhere the nuns do the breast stroke
Felt fair and fine at the time but in hindsight I let go

Surely
There'll be mercy
But firstly
Like birds perched in birch trees they will chirp me

Track Name: Costanza

Save it for dog
I brought the right amount of lightning for the bugs in the bog
I mean I'm chugging along
I'm sticking it out through the thick and the dark if you'll pardon the trickling thoughts

Well you do not know, babe
I love you so

You've got me all fucked up
I'm not letting it slide in the bed of the truck
If you're hiccuping drunk and you're getting it stuck
In the muck and the mire in the thick of the brush
As if it's not vicious and wicked enough
I'm sick and disinterested missing the bus

Well you do not know, babe
I love you so

But you've got me all fucked up
I'm all fucked up

Tip of my tongue
I mean a slip of my tongue
I mean they call me Sweet Thing even when I'm hiccuping blood
I mean I'm sick as they come
I mean I'm chucking up my stomach like it's bricks in the mud
Right by the snakes and the bugs

Well you do not know, babe
I love you so

But you've got me all fucked up
I'm all fucked up

I used to live for nothing
Kick up a fit for nothing
I used to take what I could get which isn't shit for nothing

Track Name: Pick of the Pugs

I mix the the yellow and blue
I miss the hell outta you
Could only think of one way I could pass the time
Churchill'd on a Sunday mixing up the primes
My what's a fella to do

You're on vacation down in Peru
I paint your fucking house with a crew
And I ain't scared to scaffold, scale them all the time
I could paint a castle baffling in size
And high as a space cadet too

Mean Mr. Musta Heard of Me
I miss her mean meander
I missed her terribly for weeks or days at least

'Cause I'm not the pick of the pugs
Never tug a kick or a punch
Never knew the difference, did it on a hunch
Call it what you wanna, I was out to lunch
And they should have warned you I was

It hit me like a brick in the guts
Stinking like a fifth on the bus
Oh my, mighty fine to be alive
Mighta made a million, maybe coulda died
A half pint of 'Pine in a glove

Not only don't I need it, I don't want it
Leave me be beside the fire, the brick, the carpet
Underneath the cement floor's hard as my heart is
I beg your pardon if I hardy-har the hardest

But I must have rolled at least a mile
Completely free of ease and style
But here's where it stopped
I steered for the rocks
It was worse than they feared
I was weird from the hop

So now I'm seething in the evening in the darkness
Every word you bark I hark and leave it markless
Never heard a word so fine it buttered parsnips
Put the cart behind the horse inside the harness

Back when everything was okey-dokey
You could have asked and I'd have known if I was joking
I'd yet to get what it was like to never know things
I'd yet to sweat so much at night I woke up soaking

But I must have rolled at least a mile
Completely free of ease and style
But here's where it stopped
I steered for the rocks
It was worse than they feared
I was weird from the hop

Every mile of road I go's got
Two miles of ditch, you know
Few couple nun hats that I'm
Itching to kick or throw
I'd like to kick them quick
Quicker than the liquor goes

Bet you wish that you were in the hallway right now
Breaking stuff
Don't ya?
Uh-huh

Instead of faking shaken up
You should pick a painting up
Off the wall
And change the shading up

Like you were Yaweh or Allah
All of the lawn was the wrong shade
Made like a snake and laid long-ways
Painted each blade through the long days
I couldn't quite get the greens right
I started painting by street light
Imagine the fright that would be mine
When I arrived at the tree line
And all of the trunks were the wrong hue
Glimpse at the pond was the wrong blue
Then it sunk in you were gone too
And I'd have to fix it without you

Bet you wish that you were in the hallway right now
Breaking stuff
Don't ya?
Uh-huh

Track Name: Reprise

I'll be fine
I'll be fine by and by
I'll be fine by and by so let the circle divide
Get the purple mixing blue and red
You know what I mean?
Means I'm mean for the ends and then pretend to be sweet